


Stannis Baratheon: A Tragedy in Three Acts

by 1949



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Stannis-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1949/pseuds/1949
Summary: “The Iron Throne is Joffrey's, by rights,” Stannis tells his assembled lords and knights as they prepare to sail. “All those who deny that are our foes.” In which Stannis never discovers the incest.





	1. Act I: Duty

_** Stannis Baratheon ** _

 

_**~Act I: Duty~** _

 

* * *

****  


 

**_King’s Landing, 301 AC_ **

Stannis wakes in a cold sweat.

He does not know why he _wakes_. Perhaps it is Justin Massey’s fevered singing – the man vexes him less when conscious – or the cold water trickling down from the ceiling. However, he knows why he cannot _sleep_.

It is the same dream that has haunted him for the past year – a line of silent, accusatory faces, ever lengthening, ever bloodier. _They brought their own deaths upon themselves with their treasons_ , Stannis reminds himself, as if he could will himself to forget the blood on his hands. But there is no peace.

Catharsis is a lie, he has concluded. A fiction invented to provide a false peace to the damned. _I did my duty; I never failed to do my duty,_ Stannis repeats to himself till he almost believes it. Yet the faces still haunt his dreams. Ned Stark, resignation and fear on his face as Ilyn Payne’s blade falls. Robb Stark, defiant to the end. Renly, coughing out his life in these same rooms. One-armed Rolland Storm and the other conspirators, looks of betrayal directed towards Stannis.

“I die King Joffrey’s faithful servant,” Stannis whispers as the darkness of the Black Cells closes back upon him. There is no illumination for the events that led to this.

\---

**_Dragonstone, 286 AC_ **

He broods over the Painted Table, listening to the bitter howling of the storm outside.

Some of the sycophants who infest King's Landing will tell Robert that it is an auspicious augur. The Baratheons are the descendants of Durran Godsgrief, who defied the gods and birthed a kingdom in the howling fury of their watery wrath. The heir being born to Robert will be Durran reborn, born into the storm, and the hope of the nascent Baratheon dynasty.

To Stannis, it is just another storm that he must endure. The port and ships have been secured, and there is nothing to do but wait.

He traces his way down the edge of the table, polished by three centuries of use till it is varnished with a dark, oily finish, and finds Storm's End. Perhaps it was truly built by a Durran, in some age when the earth was young and legends could grow without fear of the truth. But Storm's End was solid stone, as real as the storm breaking upon Blackwater Bay. It was stone that he had grown to know and love. Stannis remembers the battlements that his emaciated hands had gripped during the siege, the wall from which he had watched his parents die, the damp tunnels through which Davos had brought salted meat and onions.

He will never know Dragonstone in that way. Perhaps it will not be so bad losing it, as well.

Robert's heir. Robert had called him that when exiling him to this accursed rock, ‘the traditional seat of the heir to the Iron Throne.’ Robert could not even bring himself to call Stannis ‘brother.’ That would always be Ned Stark, the stranger who had displaced Robert's own blood in affection. And now Stannis would not even be Robert's heir.

Stannis wonders what he will do when Robert takes away his current pittance to give to the expected child. Perhaps he could sail with Ser Davos to Essos. They could leave the corruption and stench of King's Landing far behind, and explore the world. Perhaps they could yet find a cleaner, better place.

There is only one thing holding him back, yet that one thing is as real as a noose around a criminal's neck. His duty.

Robert has not called him brother in years. But they are the sons of Steffon Baratheon and Cassana Estermont, and that is a bond deeper than any other. So Stannis will continue to serve Robert, and his heirs, whatever that brings.

“A raven.” Faithful Cressen has entered, the maester's steps falling as they have for years. “Queen Cersei has borne a healthy child, a son named Joffrey.”

Joffrey. A Lannister name. At least it has not been named Ned, as Robert wanted. He nods, and Cressen knows Stannis well enough to bow and leave him to brood in the storm.

\---

**_King’s Landing, 286 AC_ **

Stannis meets Joffrey for the first time a few months later. He takes the blonde, squalling baby into his arms, wondering what he is supposed to do, and settles for trying to rock Joffrey. The boy only cries louder, punching air with his tiny fists. It is with relief that Stannis hands him back to a glaring Cersei.

“Do you mock me, too?” Stannis asks the watching Tywin Lannister, with a bitterness that he increasingly wonders why he tries to hide. Tywin must know. All the court knows how Stannis has been exiled to Dragonstone; how dour Ned Stark is Robert's true brother, not dour Stannis; how Robert is always disregarding and belittling him.

Green eyes flecked with gold regard him coolly, and Stannis is reminded that he is but two-and-twenty. “I am not your brother,” Tywin says at last.

“What do you mean?”

“The king's family should not be mocked. If a king is to be respected, he must assure that none dare disregard either him or his representatives.”

“Robert does not understand that.”

“He does not.”

Perhaps the two of them can understand each other, Stannis thinks.

In the end, Robert has not taken away Dragonstone. Stannis is not sure if it is a blessing or a curse. “I have had problems with unruly vassals,” he tells Tywin. The Lord of the Westerlands is a proud man; surely Tywin will understand not wanting to beg for help. But it is help and advice he wants, and Tywin who can provide it.

The Narrow Islands are never rebellious again for as long as Stannis rules them. And it is not just advice that Tywin provides. Lannister gold expands the port and invests in facilities to produce and sell soaps and dyes from the ash that darkens the landscape. Later, Willem Lannister and Joy Hill come as companions for Shireen and Devan Seaworth, and Tywin’s second son is sent to help manage the port. Tyrion, with his senseless promiscuity and acidic humor, grates on Stannis. But the dwarf performs his duties well and Shireen likes him. So Stannis endures the dwarf, and pointedly ignores the stifled laughs that, for some curious reason, seem to follow the two of them.

In return, shipyards and manufacturers of naval stores in the Westerlands are kept busy with acquisitions for the royal fleet, and its textiles and other products are preferred. Renly – he who will soon be getting into bed with the Tyrells – will later ask Stannis how he has been so cheaply bought. But Renly, who rarely even sets foot in Storm’s End, will never appreciate the curious collection of scarred knights, codfish lords, bastards, a dwarf, a mustached lady, and a greyscaled girl that make up Dragonstone’s household. It might be, against all odds, be something like a _home_.

But everything that he does to improve Dragonstone only brings more mockery from Robert and Renly. This cuts deep, and as the years and winters pass and the Baratheon brothers drift further and further apart, the resentment becomes focused on one man.

\---

**_King’s Landing, 297 AC_ **

Ned Stark.

Ned Stark, whom Robert wants by his side while storming Pyke and who advises mercy for the treacherous Greyjoys when Stannis would have bent Balon Greyjoy’s head over a block.

Ned Stark, who takes one of the Greyjoy whelps with him to Winterfell. By rights, Theon should have been sent to Casterly Rock, Stannis thinks; it is the Westerlands that have suffered the most from the Greyjoys and are the most at risk from future attacks.

And most of all, Stannis resents Ned for taking Robert away from his brothers. Stannis cannot forgive how, almost as soon as their parents were gone, Robert rode off to be with his precious Ned. Robert was the head of House Baratheon and should have been there for his brothers to lean upon; instead, they were left to drift rudderless in life's bitter winds.

Stannis coped by clinging to his duty. Renly instead sought to be like the distant Robert, seeking an elusive happiness in the acclaim of others. And that had included turning against the brother who had starved to protect him, winning cheap laughs from fools who would never truly love him by joining in their mockery of the dour brother.

They are three lonely islands in a sea of people, these Baratheon brothers.

Stannis is introspective enough to know that he is being unduly bitter. Perhaps Lord Stark is not the monster that his long brooding has constructed. But the slights and mockeries take their toll. As the three brothers drift further and further apart, it becomes harder and harder not to hate the Lord of the North.

When Jon Arryn unexpectedly dies and Robert determines his new Hand, Stannis realizes that he cannot bear to be in the same city as Ned Stark.

\---

**_King’s Landing, 298 AC_ **

Stannis returns to King’s Landing to swear fealty to King Joffrey, just in time to witness Ned Stark’s death.

It is perhaps fitting that the man who ripped apart the Baratheon brothers proves to be a false friend for Robert. What true friend would so callously do this? Stannis has been told – and this is confirmed by the traitor’s own confession on the steps of Baelor – of how Robert was barely even in the grave before Ned Stark banded together with Renly to usurp Joffrey’s rightful throne; of how the Queen Mother and new King were only saved by the intervention of the goldcloaks; of how the traitors Renly and Loras Tyrell cut their way to safety, but Ned Stark was captured.

However obvious the man’s treachery, the execution is ill-done. Joffrey has the right to condemn Ned Stark, but Ned Stark has the right to a trial by combat. The new king will have much to learn if he is to rule well. It is no longer a cat over which he has the power of life and death, but a Lord Paramount and millions of people. By executing Ned Stark, Joffrey has ensured that the North will not be pacified easily. Stannis can only hope that in the future, he and Lord Tywin will be able influence young Joffrey for the better.

Yet it is not at Joffrey that the condemned man looks, but at him. Stannis does not presume to say what is in Ned’s eyes, but there is something strange there. Fear? Sorrow? Pity? And then Ned Stark is bowing his head, and Ice falls.

Some of Stannis’ men are whispering mutinously, and the anger breaks out in full force when they are alone. Joffrey has just condemned them to a war to the knife. On the other hand, Renly would overthrow the rules of law and succession and rule by the force of arms, in a world where might made right; and Robb Stark would tear apart the Seven Kingdoms.

In the end, though, there is no true choice. It is to Joffrey that he owes his duty now. Stannis did not want this war, but he will prosecute it to the best of his abilities. Royal galleys are already sweeping the coast, looking for the kidnapped Tyrion Lannister. Stannis and his bannermen will sail shortly to take Maidenpool and Saltpans, then meet with Tywin Lannister. Their plan is to force the North and Riverlands out of the war as quickly as possible before turning south to face Renly. This also allows him to delay the inevitable confrontation with his brother. Renly, little Renly, for whom Stannis had starved. _Damn Ned Stark and Robert_ , Stannis thinks again and again. He tries to put little Renly out of his mind.

“The Iron Throne is Joffrey's, by rights,” Stannis tells his assembled lords and knights as they prepare to sail. “All those who deny that are our foes.”


	2. Act II: Retribution

_** Stannis Baratheon ** _

 

_**~Act II: Retribution~** _

 

* * *

**_Riverlands, 298 AC_ **

After the Battles of Whispering Wood and Oxcross, some quietly whisper that Robb Stark is Daeron the Young Dragon reborn.

Stannis scoffs when he hears this. It was ships that won the Dornish war, not goat tracks. And the coming campaign will be no different.

Roose Bolton digs in at the fords of the Trident, ready to repel Lord Tywin if the Lannisters sally from Harrenhal. But Stannis takes his lightest galleys up the Trident, towing the royal fleet’s boats and the barges captured at Maidenpool and Saltpans. East of the fords, they transport Ser Addam Marbrand’s cavalry, followed by the Narrow Sea infantry, across the Trident. By the time Roose Bolton can move north – on foot – Ser Addam has raced ahead and cut off the rebels’ retreat; Velaryon and Celtigar and Massey pikemen are to their east; the Green Fork is to their west; and Lord Tywin is bringing the hammer down on their south.

All that is left is the slaughter. Lord Tywin is determined to make an example and hunt every last Northerner to the ground; it is here that Gregor Clegane and the rest of Lord Tywin’s dogs – Stannis views them with the same distaste that he does Clayton Suggs, as necessary evils – prove their worth. The Leech Lord himself is captured, with all of the major Northern lords who had escaped the first battle on the Green Fork. Some thousands of the Northerners escape in small bands, but after a couple weeks Roose Bolton’s army has ceased to exist as an organized force.

When the combined Lannister and Narrow Seas army marches through the western Riverlands towards the Westerlands to catch Robb Stark, though, there is little resistance. Edmure is hiding in his castle this time; stranger yet, so are all the other Riverlords.

“It’s a trap,” Justin Massey declares as they pass the Golden Tooth.

In the end, the trap closes on Robb Stark.

\----

**_King’s Landing, 298AC_ **

To enter a city to the adulation of a cheering populace is a new experience for the second son of Steffon Baratheon. The people have heard tales of how the Northerners would come as monstrous wargs to rip out their throats. Instead, they see the Northeners humbled, and cheer him for it.

The euphoria lasts only as long as it takes for him to bring the Northern prisoners before Joffrey. The king watches with a sneer before rising from the Iron Throne and addressing his betrothed. “Sansa, I told you I would give you your brother’s head as a wedding gift. I am a man of my word. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”

“Stop!” the girl screams, before Ser Meryn backhands her across the face. She has clearly been struggling not to break as her brother is dragged across the throne room, and now the dam has burst.

“This is madness!” Justin Massey whispers to Stannis, his hand on his sword.

Stannis steps in front of Joffrey. “Your grace, you must reconsider. If you kill Robb Stark as well, you will never have peace in the North. They will never surrender…”

“I AM THE KING!” Joffrey screams spittle flying in Stannis’ face. “Nobody tells me what to do!” Joffrey draws his sword and points it at Stannis. “Step aside now. I’m going to kill the traitor myself!”

Stannis feels the dagger in his belt. He could kill Joffrey right now. His army outside outmatches the goldcloaks and Kingsguard. The mob would probably proclaim him, the triumphant commander, the victor of the Second Battle of the Green Fork and the Battle of the Banefort, king. He could release Robb and stop all this madness.

He bows and steps aside.

Robb Stark dies, defiant to the end, as Joffrey stabs him again and again. _I did my duty_ , Stannis tells himself as he tries not to retch. _I obeyed my king._

Stannis leaves the city as soon as possible to help Lord Tywin finish pacifying the Riverlands. He rides away from all the blood, away from Joffrey, and he hopes away from contrition.

\---

**_Riverlands, 299 AC_ **

“Harrenhal is yours,” Tywin Lannister tells him as the Lord of the Westerlands prepares to lead the Lannister army south to face Renly.

Dragonstone and Harrenhal. The two most desolate castles in Westeros. The gods, if they exist, have a farcical sense of humor.

“I am also leaving you my cupbearer,” Lord Tywin adds, almost as an afterthought. “A clever little girl fleeing from the war. Daughter of a literate stonemason, she says.”

Tywin might not know many stonemasons. But Stannis associates with smugglers and commoners, and he knows that stonemasons write in marks and signs, not the Common Tongue. So he silently watches the girl, and wonders.

They settle into a comfortable, mostly silent relationship; he makes certain that she is not harassed by the men – it is something that he would do for any of his vassals, Stannis tells himself – and she learns how much lemon he likes in his water and shoos away the cats. Nevertheless, her mistake is to talk about her family.

“They say my aunt could ride like the wind,” she says in an unguarded moment when they are riding to Stone Hedge and he comments on how well she rides. At first he takes it as yet another confirmation that the girl is highborn, but that night it occurs to him.

_Robert_. Robert was always talking about how his betrothed was free as the wind on a horse. Furthermore, Stannis remembers the painting that Robert had shown him, the image that Robert had fallen in love with. It would take some years, but his cupbearer will be the image of Lyanna Stark.

He knows that the elder daughter of Eddard Stark is a captive in King’s Landing; the younger is believed dead, somewhere in the deeper gutters of that gutterous city. But it has to be her.

Stannis nearly jumps to his feet. A traitor’s daughter is in the castle; he wonders why she hasn’t bothered to stab him, after the deaths of her father and brother…

It is this last thought that gives him pause. He ought to arrest her and send her straight to King’s Landing, to be used as a hostage. But he remembers Eddard’s and Robb’s faces, and thinks of the king. He has seen the scars on Sansa’s back, and knows what kind of fate will await the girl at Joffrey’s hands. The Stark is of an age with Shireen, and nearly as clever…

Arya is innocent of her family’s crimes. The blood of half of the Starks is on his hands, and he wishes for no more of it.

Obviously, Stannis has never been specifically ordered to look for the girl.

He thinks about letting her go – he has taken care to make sure she never has an opportunity to escape – before realizing why she has never tried. She has nothing left in Westeros, and the only place in the Seven Kingdoms where she will be safe is with him.

“I want you to go to Braavos,” he tells Ser Davos that night.

“And what might I be doing in Braavos?”

“I want you to…buy lemons.” Stannis silently curses himself for not being able to think of anything more believable. “And take my cupbearer with you; find some gainful employment for her there.”

Ser Davos pointedly quirks an eyebrow, but knows him well enough to not further press the question. A couple months later Davos returns with a sellsword company, a couple hundred Myrish crossbows, and a crate of lemons and reports that the girl is employed selling oysters (yes, it is in a reputable part of the city, Davos assures him) and has lodging (no, it is not in a tavern of ill repute, Davos hastens to add).

He had to send her away. Stannis knows that if he saw and was reminded of her every day, he would soon wonder if he did the right thing. Would it have been his duty to send her to Joffrey? His hands are clean, Stannis thinks as he goes about the business of pacifying the Riverlands.

Tyrion Lannister is the one to force him back into the muck. His erstwhile assistant, after coming back from northern adventure and kidnapping, has been working for Tywin in King’s Landing – with mixed results – to restrain Joffrey and Cersei.

“My father needs your help,” Tyrion tells Stannis at Harrenhal. Tywin Lannister has been battling Renly to the south; Renly cannot cross the Blackwater Rush while the royal fleet controls it, but Tywin does not have the numbers to beat him in the field. “He’s a proud man, my father; he’ll never ask for help, but we both know he needs it to save Joffrey’s throne.”

“I have no wish to fight my brother.” Little Renly, playing at being a king. And crowns were rarely removed while their wearers drew breath.

Tyrion sighs. “And so you’ll let the Seven Kingdoms remain divided and torn by war? Your duty to the realm, Lord Stannis, and to King Joffrey. Oh, don’t even think of saying it, I know I’ve never been one for all that talk of duty. But you are.”

**\---**

**_King’s Landing, 300 AC_ **

He follows the gaoler’s torch into the darkness of the Black Cells. This is a meeting that he has put off again and again, but it must be done.

“The traitor Renly Baratheon,” the gaoler says unnecessarily as he shoves the torch into a cell and unlocks it.

The cell is filthy, and the inhabitant even filthier. Renly looks up, blinking at the sudden light. The shadows fall on his gaunt face and tattered clothes, caked with dirt and excrement. It is a far cry from the Renly that Stannis once knew, or even the one whom Stannis captured at dinner few months earlier. Yet Stannis cannot forget that this is his brother.

“Why?” Stannis asks simply as he subconsciously kicks the latrine bucket back upright. “Why did you rebel?”

Renly coughs, spit and phlegm and whatever else Stannis does not want to know dribbling from his mouth. An emaciated hand wipes it away, and Stannis sees with horror that the fingernails have been ripped away. And then Renly _laughs_. It is hoarse and broken, but it is unmistakably his japing laugh.

“I did what you should have done. Even Ned Stark, honorable as he was, saw that Joffrey had to be removed. You could have been a king, Stannis, like me.”

“Speak no more of your treasons.”

“Treason, duty, it’s all words,” Renly scoffs. “You were always afraid, brother. You try to hide behind all those words. Do you think they make you any less of a monster than Joffrey?” Renly sighs and coughs some more. It is clear that he will not live long. “I would have been a good king,” he whispers.

“A false king.”

“No falser than Joffrey.” Renly will say no more; he only looks up at Stannis with a horrid half-grin.

Stannis turns away. “I did not want for this to happen to you.”

“Mayhaps. But your hands will never be clean, brother.”

\---

**_Dragonstone, 301 AC_ **

The next year is one long nightmare.

Robb Stark had discovered, fatally, that a people did not take kindly to having their lands burned and livestock taken away. While Stannis was in charge of pacifying the Riverlands, he made sure that his troops were held to the highest standards of conduct; often, it was his own men that he hung for pillaging and raping. It was not the fault of the people that their lords chose to be traitorous, after all. He could make that land his own; a just land, with fair justice for all, where his word could be trusted even if the king’s was not. The defeated Riverlords grew to respect him, even if they would never love him, and some thousands of Riverlanders fought under him against Renly.

But a victorious general is often a dangerous one for tyrants, and Joffrey – whatever his deficiencies – is well aware of this. So Stannis is sent back to Dragonstone, and a series of sycophants undoes all his work in the Riverlands.

Even then, it might not have been so bad if it was not for the king’s arbitrary “justice.” In one way, there is equality – lord and commoner alike die on Joffrey’s whims. Much of the countryside in the Riverlands and Reach is soon in a state of rebellion; as for the North, White Harbor is secured due to both of Lord Manderly’s sons being hostages, but garrison after garrison disappears in the wintery Northern wastes.

The Handship is taken away from Lord Tywin almost as soon as Renly is defeated. Tywin returns to the Westerlands and Tyrion goes with him, father and son united at last in their despisal of the king. As much as he hates to admit it, Stannis finds his world a lonelier place.

The Night’s Watch calls for aid; Joffrey ignores it. Stannis sends several hundred men and a shipment of dragonglass, which enable Castle Black and Eastwatch to stand as a wave of wildlings wash over the Wall and set the North afire; but Joffrey, in a fit of pique, orders them recalled.

At first, Stannis protests at it all, but every plea is ignored and the fleet is taken away from him. At last there is nothing left to do but brood on Dragonstone. _I secured his crown for him,_ a voice whispers accusingly. _I made him king for this._ The nightmares begin to come. Eddard Stark. Robb Stark. Renly. A long line of silent, accusing faces that lengthens every day Joffrey remains in power.

It is there on Dragonstone that Rolland Storm finds him. His erstwhile retainer had served him well before losing an arm in some nameless fight in the south, and after convalescing went sent to serve in King’s Landing. Rolland has gathered others who want to overthrow Joffrey and place Tommen on the throne, with Stannis as Lord Protector. “We need you,” Rolland insists. “There is only one man in the Seven Kingdoms who has the friendship of Lord Tywin and is respected enough, even by the Riverlords and Reachlords, to persuade them to follow us. That is you. We need you, Lord Stannis.”

“That is treason. However much of a monster he may be, Joffrey is the rightful king.”

“The realm bleeds every day that Joffrey is king!” Rolland exclaims. “If we do nothing, an angry people who have had enough of the tyrant will drag us through the streets; if we act without somebody to unify the Seven Kingdoms, there will be civil war!”

“We swore an oath to faithfully serve Joffrey.” Stannis cups his hands. “When a man takes an oath, he is holding his own self in his own hands, Iike water. And if he opens his fingers then, he needn't hope to find himself again. If a man knows what he is, and remains true to himself, the choice is no choice at all.”

“You will warn Joffrey,” Rolland says, downcast. It is a statement, not a question.

“I will give you enough time to escape to Essos if you wish, and then do my duty to Joffrey.”

Rolland Storm gives him one last look, the look of a condemned man; salutes with what remains of the arm that he lost in Stannis’ service; and departs.

“I did my duty,” Stannis whispers as he watches a raven fly away to King’s Landing, bearing death and what remains of his soul.

Operation Harpy, as the conspirators call it, fails spectacularly. Rolland Storm and Jacelyn Bywater, with part of the City Watch, try to storm the Red Keep and are slaughtered. And then the arrests begin. Jate Blackberry, Lucos Chyttering, Bryen and Gilbert Farring, Justin Massey, all good men who had served Stannis well. Even with his warning to Joffrey, Stannis knows that it will be noted who they had served, and who they wanted to be Protector of the Realm. The tangled threads of the web the conspirators have spun will catch him.

Stannis does not flee. It does not seem just, perhaps, for him to survive when so many of his good men do not. He has Davos prepare to smuggle Selyse and Shireen to Essos, and waits.

It is almost a relief to Stannis when Joffrey has him arrested too.

 


	3. Act III: Atonement

 

_** Stannis Baratheon ** _

 

_**~Act III: Atonement~** _

 

* * *

**_King’s Landing, 302 AC_ **

When light returns to the Black Cells, it is accompanied by the clash of steel and a distant roaring, before silence reigns again.

It cannot be a nightmare, Stannis concludes in his half-conscious state. Those demons who haunt his dreams would not wash away the dirt and excrement that cover him, and warp him in warm blankets, and force broth down his throat.

When he wakes, it is not in the Black Cells. He is lying in a bed, covered in clean sheets, and the sun that he has almost forgotten is illuminating Davos Seaworth’s honest, joyful face. “How?” he manages to croak. “What is this place?”

“It’s not the afterlife, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Davos answers. “You were far too close to that for comfort, but I was just in time to save you. Rest now, my lord.”

Stannis forces himself up on an elbow. “Tell me,” he orders, wishing he could find some of the old strength in his voice. “Tell me what has happened and where I am.”

Davos sighs. “We’re in the Red Keep. This room is still a cell of sorts, I suppose. It’s Daenerys Targaryen who rules now. She came with dragons, and an army of Unsullied. Stark, Tully, Tyrell, Martell – they’ve all declared for her. Joffrey and Cersei are dead, and the Lannisters routed. It’s dragon banners over us all now.”

“And you also joined her?” Stannis asks sharply. “You abandoned your rightful king?”

“I’d join the Stranger himself if I had to,” Davos replies without a hint of shame. “I couldn’t abandon you to die, my lord.”

He does not deserve such loyalty, Stannis thinks; Davos has proven far more dutiful to him than Stannis was to Rolland Storm and all his other men. He sinks back into bed and lets fitful sleep takes him once more.

\---

**_King’s Landing, 302 AC_ **

Daenerys Targaryen thinks to impress him, perhaps, with pageantry and power. Long ranks of Unsullied line the throne room; the dragon skulls have been restored, and tapestries and courtesans clash in a headache-inducing riot of colors. Windows have been opened to display the dragons feeding outside.

Having survived Joffrey, it is all wasted on Stannis.

“You may wonder,” Daenerys is saying, “why I have allowed you to live despite you serving the Usurper and the Usurper’s spawn for so many years. There are two reasons. First, your Onion Knight pleaded for your life as a condition for helping us into King’s Landing. Secondly, Lord Edmure –” Stannis notices his one-time prisoner, now wearing the Hand’s badge and looking very uncomfortable at the proceedings – “tells me that there is no more respected battle commander in Westeros than you. I want you to bend the knee, and all your transgressions against House Targaryen will be forgiven.”

“No.” _It is not to you that I owe penitence._

The conqueror looks nonplussed. “Your family has forfeited the kingship,” Stannis continues. “You may sit the Iron Throne, but if Joffrey is dead, then my duty is to Tommen.”

“I have Tommen as a prisoner. I can have him killed, if you are intransigent. Would you have his death on your hands, Lord Stannis?”

_I have far more than that on my hands._ “You will not kill Tommen,” he says.

Daenerys misunderstands. “You may have been right once, Lord Stannis, but I learned the cost of mercy in Meereen when I refused to kill the masters’ children. I will not make that mistake again. If I must feed Tommen to my dragons, I shall.”

“You will not kill Tommen because he is your heir. Your great-grandfather Aegon had two children with descendants. One was Jaehaerys, and you are the last of his line. But Jaehaerys had a sister, Rhaelle, who married Ormund Baratheon.” Dutiful Rhaelle, who alone of Aegon the Fifth’s children proved to be a true grandchild of Maekar Targaryen. And Stannis is Rhaelle’s grandson in more than name. “Tommen is Rhaelle’s great-grandson and your cousin. If you would claim the Iron Throne as a woman, then you must recognize that Rhaelle’s line is entitled to inherit the throne as well, and Tommen is your heir.”

Daenerys does not say anything. The guards take him away, and he lives yet another day.

\---

**_King’s Landing, 302 AC_ **

Stannis stands on the docks, waiting for the ship _Nurem’s Hill_ that will take him north. He will take the black and not agitate against the new regime, in return for an assurance of the safety of Tommen, Myrcella, Selyse, and Shireen, and for not having to bend the knee.

A gust of wind blows across the quay and he wraps his cloak closer around his gaunt body. The Unsullied guarding him – does Daenerys have so little regard for his honor? – suppress a shiver, and Stannis reflect that in a few decades they, and the Targaryen, will have passed along with the summer. He does not think he will live long enough to see this; nor does he have any reason to. The world seems brighter now that he does not have to serve Joffrey. But duty has hollowed him out till there is little but a shell left.

There is a commotion from the end of the dock and Stannis sees Davos Seaworth trying to force his way past the guards. “Let him pass,” he calls instinctively; the Unsullied, after a moment, step aside. “Ser Davos,” Stannis says, “I did not send for you.”

Davos, more salt than pepper on his beard now, falls on his knees. “Let me go with you, Lord Stannis.”

“You have a wife and children.”

“Dale can care for them now, my lord. When you took my fingers and knighted me, I swore that I’d serve you, always. I mean to keep that oath.”

Stannis raises the old smuggler up. “And you can serve me yet. I want you to take Shireen back to Cape Wrath, and Selyse if she will go. Be the father to her that I never was. Teach her duty and guide her; she has a gentle heart, and King’s Landing could consume her. But do not forget there is strength in her too, however much fools might mock her. And Tommen…” Stannis thinks of seeing Tommen tilting at a quintain, and Joffrey’s mocking laughter. _You’ll never do it…Weakwing will never catch anything. Look at my bright sword…look at my gyrfalcon._

Robert and Joffrey blend together, and Stannis sees another little boy forever trying to escape from his elder brother’s shadow. There is little of Robert or Stannis in Tommen, and for this Stannis is thankful. “My nephew has seen many horrors; make sure he does not grow into a bitter, angry man.” _The sins of my generation should not be visited on the next,_ Stannis thinks; _let them grow up in a better, cleaner world. “_ And they may hear a great many things about me. Some might even be true. But whatever else, tell them I did my duty.”

Tears are streaming down faithful Davos’ face. “I will do that, my lord,” he says. “I swear it.”

There is nothing more to be said. Stannis boards the _Nurem’s Hill_ and turns his back on King’s Landing.

\---

**_Castle Black, 302 AC_ **

Lord Commander Cotter Pyke receives him kindly enough; the Night’s Watch remembers with gratitude how Stannis sent them aid when nobody else would, the grizzled veteran assures him. A man of his experience will be of great service to the Watch.

The young man with dark hair and grey eyes, who Stannis soon finds out is Ned Stark’s bastard, is far less welcoming. The bastard stares at him, eyes full of baleful hate. Seeing a man associated with the enemies who killed one’s father and three brothers could make a person less rational, Stannis supposes.

The first time they are alone, Jon Snow grabs Stannis and pins him against a wall, a dagger against his throat. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” the bastard growls.

There is one occasion, in looking back at the past few years, where Stannis thinks he may have failed his duty. It has given him restless nights, spent wondering if that moment of mercy was ill done. And yet it may now save his life.

“Arya Stark,” Stannis says.

\---

**_Castle Black, 304 AC_ **

Jon Snow and Stannis settle into a cold but respectful distance.

It is a cold and lonely life, with constant dangers on both sides of the wall now. But Stannis begins to find a purpose in the service. His fellow Watchmen are mostly rough men, but far more honest than the snakes in King’s Landing. Between his discipline and Tyrion Lannister’s acerbic humor, they can be shaped into a better fighting force. And he can mold them, make them dutiful, make them truly the _shield that guards the realms of men_.

He also learns to find little bits of joy in life – the warmth of a fire after a long ranging, or a particularly invigorating conversation with Dolorous Edd, or finding that Three-Finger Hobb has prepared something different from their usual fare. The cook should be Lord Commander, Stannis sometimes thinks; there is no more essential man in the Night’s Watch.

The brightest moments are the little tidbits of news filter up from the South, along with an occasional letter from Shireen, and later from Davos as well. They tell of a realm rebuilding beneath the gathering snows; of the wounds that tear apart the Seven Kingdoms being bound together. They tell of how the Dragon Queen remains childless, and how the maesters believe she never will have a child. They tell of Tommen growing into a fine young knight, who stubbornly spurns the attempts of Targaryen loyalists to have him marry one of their daughters. Tommen has fallen for Shireen instead (no, Davos is not _entirely_ responsible for that, the old rogue assures him with _far_ too much cheerfulness) and insists that they will be wed.

Cotter Pyke dies in one of the increasingly frequent encounters with demons of ages past, and there must be a new election. Stannis is First Ranger now, and he knows that many already consider him the next Lord Commander. It is no surprise to him, either, when Justin Massey is the first to stand for him. The Smiler has a castle at last – lonely Icemark – but doubtless wants to be rewarded with a larger pile of rock and ice. “There is only one leader among us with the experience, and the blood, and the courage for this position,” Justin Massey declares to a great deal of cheering. “I nominate our next Lord Commander, Stannis Baratheon!”

Stannis slowly gets to his feet. “A leader must be a servant first,” he says. “His duty is to his men, and the realm. Whenever I spoke of duty, I thought only of myself, and better men than me died as a result. Any of you would be more suited for Lord Commander, even the cook.” Stannis pauses to take in the downcast look on Justin Massey’s face, and Tyrion Lannister’s surprised, respectful gaze, and Jon Snow’s inscrutable expression. “If you insist on electing me, I will obey your demand. But I…ask…that you do not, and that you instead vote for the First Steward.”

There is a stunned silence; Stannis casts his token and then leaves.

Some time later, the new Lord Commander finds him atop the Wall. “Why?” Jon Snow want to know.

How does he tell Jon Snow that it was really for himself? That perhaps he can find some absolution in this? That it was because Jon Snow is the image of Ned Stark, the man Stannis always resented for coming first?

Perhaps Renly was right, and Ned had the courage to do what had to be done – to do what Stannis never could. “Your father…Ned Stark…was a brave man,” Stannis says at last.

They stand in silence atop the wall, the cold winds from the North sweeping down over them and rangers’ horns blowing in the distance. Perhaps here at the end of the world, Stannis thinks, he can find illumination, a catharsis, an absolution.


End file.
